


This, too, shall pass

by prototyping



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri crushing hard on Byleth, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nabatean complications, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prompt Fic, because who do you think I am lbr, bit of a fever dream tbh, but it's there in the background, but not so much that it should clutter the tag, lots of vague implications, mildly questionable Rhea, this is more whump lite tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27846878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: The first sign that something was amiss came at breakfast.[Written for day 4 of FE3H Whump Week: “painful transformation.”]
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Rhea
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	This, too, shall pass

The first sign that something was amiss came at breakfast.

Byleth slept well, courtesy of her first dreamless night in weeks. Whether it was the lack of nightmares or the peace of having avenged her father, she awoke feeling more refreshed than she had in… well, ever, as far as she could recall. Sothis’ absence still hung heavy on her mind, but physically, she was in tip-top shape despite the grueling battle the day before. Normally she would have at least a few aches to show for it, even if she did have a tendency to heal rather quickly.

She didn’t dwell on it as she made her way to the dining hall. The Blue Lions table greeted her with the same enthusiasm as always, even if most of them did a double-take when they saw her. It seemed they had yet to adjust to her new appearance.

Dimitri, however, gave her his usual warm smile and polite nod when she took her seat across from him.

The conversational buzz of the table resumed as Byleth turned to her full tray of food. Her fork was loaded with scrambled egg and halfway to her mouth when she stopped, staring at it.

Dimitri noticed her frown immediately. “Professor? Is something wrong?”

The strong scents of egg, sausage, fresh bread, and fruits were wonderful and appetizing, but the longer Byleth looked at her plate, the more uneasy her stomach felt. She didn’t feel _sick_ , necessarily, but the thought of eating struck her as… not good.

Setting her fork down, she reached for her tea instead. “I’m… not really hungry,” she answered slowly.

Dimitri looked as confused as she felt.

Her appetite hadn’t returned by lunch, but she was too busy catching up on grading and lesson plans to notice when the hour came and went, anyway. When she joined her House for dinner and her stomach _still_ felt like a solid weight, unconvinced by the smells of seasoned meat, she knew something was wrong.

Even during her days of grieving for Jeralt, her body had been hungry, protesting with growls and pangs when she refused to leave her room to eat for long stretches of time. Now…

She tried eating, anyway. The taste was good, but she felt full after the first bite. After managing a few more, she set her fork down and settled for sipping at water.

Again, Dimitri noticed. “Still no appetite, Professor?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Are you unwell?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Byleth couldn’t recall ever catching anything more serious than a cold, however, so who was she to judge? Maybe she had come down with something. “I’ll check with Manuela in the morning.”

She retired later that night with the intention of doing so. Two hours later, she still lay awake in bed, staring at the dark ceiling.

She wasn’t tired.

Finally, she climbed out of bed and snatched the tea kettle off her desk.

On her way back from the dining hall, steaming kettle in hand, she noticed a light on the second floor of the dormitories. It looked like Dimitri was still awake.

Byleth pondered for only a moment, and then returned to her room just long enough to set the kettle on a tray with some tea bags and two cups. When she knocked on Dimitri’s door minutes later, he looked surprised as he answered.

“Professor? Is everything alright?”

“I thought you might be having trouble sleeping, too.” She shrugged and indicated the tray. “I’m about to make some tea, if you’re interested.”

Naturally, he didn’t refuse her, but she was glad to detect no hesitation or reluctance in his response. As she stepped into his room, a strong scent filled her nose. It wasn’t unpleasant－on the contrary, it was… comforting, in a familiar sort of way, even though she couldn’t place it. There were a couple more smells, as well: the tang of polishing oil, a faded hint of soap and the seasoned chicken from dinner.

As distracted as she was, she didn’t notice Dimitri approaching until he was directly in front of her.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Professor?”

Byleth blinked at him blankly.

Ah.

The familiar scent… it was _him_.

Somehow, she simply knew: it was his natural scent, the smell of his skin beneath all the other weaker, passing smells of the day that still clung to him. He smelled like something cold and crisp but warm at the same time－a fire on a snowy night, a warm breeze in the cool shade. There was a hint of metal and leather, blood and sweat, but it was all interwoven into the rest so that it felt natural. A part of him. It was almost intimate, how well she knew that scent and how calming it was to her nerves, how the potency of it flared every other second or so－with every beat of his pulse, she realized, although she wasn’t sure how she knew that.

Byleth had never noticed it before, and yet it was so distinctly and certainly _him_ that she couldn’t question it.

“Yes,” she heard herself say. “Sorry. I’m a little distracted tonight.”

She sat on his bed and he pulled a chair over as they steeped their tea bags. They talked about nothing in particular, avoiding the subject of why they were both wide awake after midnight. Dimitri looked tired and kept running his hand through his hair, making it messier each time, but he smiled at her and spoke to her as warmly as ever.

Talking with Dimitri was always pleasant. Even their idle smalltalk felt genuine rather than forced, whether they spoke equally or he did most of the talking. It seemed to have been that way between them since meeting.

“Has your appetite returned?” he ventured to ask after some time. Byleth shook her head.

“No. I’m starting to think maybe I’m just… I’m still taking everything in. Looking back now, a lot has happened recently.”

He nodded. “Hopefully that’s all it is. Stress can affect both the mind and body in strange ways.” He kept his eyes down as he sipped at his tea. She couldn’t tell whether it was intentional. “At any rate,” he added a moment later, “I’m all ears if there’s anything troubling you. I don’t know if it would help, but…”

“Thank you. But… I’m not sure there’s much to say. At this point I think I need to just… accept where I am now, and determine where I go from here.”

Her answer sounded vague when put into words, but Dimitri seemed to understand. “I see. I’m certain you’ll do so soon, Professor.”

Somehow, those few words made her feel more confident. She smiled. “I think I might.”

* * *

Byleth awoke the next morning to a pounding on her door. Startled and annoyed but also concerned about the urgency, she dragged herself out of bed and searched for enough clothes to make herself presentable.

She answered the door to find Dimitri on her threshold. He looked relieved when he saw her, although he paused at her frown. “Forgive me for disturbing you, Professor. Are you well?”

Why was he so _loud_? He wasn’t shouting, but his soft voice was elevated, hammering against her ears. She rubbed at her aching forehead. “I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

“Oh... Nothing, but it’s nearly noon, and it seemed as though no one had seen you－”

“ _Noon_?” She never slept that late, even before coming to the academy. She shook her head, only to quickly go still when it made her dizzy, and tried to fight through the tired fog in her brain. “I… overslept, I guess. Did I miss...?”

“There’s no class today,” he reminded her. “I just wanted to make sure all was well, since you mentioned visiting Professor Manuela.”

Oh, right. Byleth rubbed her face. “I remember. I’ll do that. Soon.”

He nodded. “Alright. Truly, Professor, I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s fine. Someone needed to. But you didn’t have to try knocking my door down.”

He looked puzzled. “I’m sorry?”

“When you were knocking, it sounded like you…” She trailed off as the last of the sleep muddling her mind faded away. The outside of her door looked fine－not scuffed or dented in the slightest, as it surely would have been had Dimitri put any force behind his knocking. She must have been mistaken in her drowsiness. “...Nothing. I’m sorry.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I guess I’m just－”

The chime of the monastery bells interrupted her, announcing that it was indeed noontime. There were a couple bells scattered around the grounds, each enchanted to ring simultaneously at certain times of day. The closest was halfway between her room and the bathhouse, meaning it was usually effective in waking her at the crack of dawn. Normally she would have raised her voice to speak over the sound.

Except this time the noise was so loud that it felt like she’d been struck in the head.

Byleth reeled, stumbling sideways into her door as her hands reflexively flew to cover her ears. The next chime was just as shrill and piercing, and the next, until her skull vibrated and her teeth chattered. Something touched her shoulders and she stiffened, too dazed and confused to do much else. There was a muffled roaring behind the Goddess-forsaken scream of the bell, but her throbbing head was as numb and unresponsive as the rest of her and she couldn’t fathom what it was.

“－ _fessor!_ ”

Dimitri. He was shouting now. Something in her rattled brain clicked and put together that it was probably him touching her, which brought her some fleeting peace of mind before everything suddenly went dark and, thankfully, silent.

* * *

When Byleth awoke, her nose adjusted before her eyes. The room was dimly lit but she blinked rapidly, tearing up against the offensive candlelight. Meanwhile, her sharpened sense of smell told her this wasn’t her room and she wasn’t alone. Someone nearby smelled of jade and birch and the deep tones of something older, like a well-used tome or old, empty building.

“How are you, Professor?”

The whisper felt as though it were spoken directly into her ear, but when Byleth’s vision focused she found Rhea sitting at her bedside, just out of arm’s reach. The archbishop wore a gentle smile.

“I…” Byleth winced as her own voice made her head throb. She closed her eyes again and Rhea made a low, soothing noise.

“Please, don’t push yourself. You’re safe here. You can take as long as you need to recover.”

Recover. _From what?_ she wanted to ask, but it felt like every bone in her head ached, down to each tooth.

Fortunately, Rhea picked up on the unspoken question. “You’re perfectly healthy,” she assured her, still in that carefully quiet voice. “It would seem your body is still adjusting to the Goddess’ blessing.”

The Goddess’... Ah. She hadn’t thought of that.

Byleth turned that over for a moment, as well as she could with the pounding in her temples. She hadn’t felt any sort of effect after Sothis left her－well, she had felt stronger in the battle that followed, and noticed a significant boost in the power of her magic, and then of course she had fainted. But she had felt fine after that and made sure not to push herself.

She rolled her head towards Rhea. “Why?” she murmured.

Rhea’s gaze turned aside, her expression thoughtful. “There are no records or legends of Saint Seiros ever undergoing such a trial during her communication with the Goddess… but given the expanse of Sothis’ powers, it is not surprising that her blessing may have unforeseen effects on a mortal vessel.” Looking at Byleth again, her eyes softened sadly. “I must apologize for not foreseeing this. Had I suspected anything was amiss, I would have remained at your side.”

As exhausted and dazed as Byleth was, that proposition seemed a little much. Of course the archbishop of the Church couldn’t personally tend to her day and night.

“Do you know what else might happen? So far, it’s…” She tried to gather her thoughts from the last two days. “It’s as though I’m… sensitive to everything. Smells, sounds…”

Pressing her lips together for a moment, Rhea shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid I cannot say. I can only speculate, and to that end I suspect you may have to bear such sensitivities for a little while longer. But please, do not worry, Professor. The Goddess would never burden you with a yoke that you were incapable of carrying.” She reached out and brushed some hair from Byleth’s forehead, her affectionate smile returning. “You have been chosen by her, after all. You need only rest and have faith in her guidance. Concern yourself with nothing else for now.”

As much as Byleth had striven to keep Rhea at arm’s length and view her objectively－largely because of her father’s warnings－at that moment her soothing voice and reassurance were welcome, enough for Byleth to trust in her easy confidence. As her eyes drifted closed again, Rhea spoke in a fading voice.

“I will be near if you need anything. Should you experience anything strange… dreams, or voices… do tell me, Byleth. I am here for you.”

* * *

Byleth wasn’t sure how much time passed, but none of it was pleasant. She slept a lot, often waking to find Rhea in her usual seat but a few times finding herself alone. Hunger still wasn’t an issue and to her surprise she wasn’t pressed to eat anything, although there always seemed to be fresh fruit and bread available on a cart beside the bed. She did help herself to water and sometimes tea, both of which seemed to have been flavored with something floral and sweet. She tended to fall asleep faster after a drink.

Her senses were still overworking themselves, but Rhea’s room was as neutral a space as she could hope for. Unless Rhea was present, there was hardly any noise.

Had Byleth’s senses been the only issue, her isolation would probably have been a peaceful, easy one. Instead, her condition quickly took a worse, stranger turn.

She already didn’t like the cold, but the chilly evenings began to bother her more than ever. Despite the thick blankets, she woke up freezing in the middle of the night, curled tight into a ball and shivering. When she awoke the next morning, the fireplace had been lit. She didn’t recall seeing Rhea, let alone speaking with her, but she could only fathom it was her thoughtful doing.

In spite of her cold spell, Byleth quickly deduced she wasn’t feverish. She dragged the armchair to the window to sit in the warm sun, where she napped on and off for most of the day. When night fell again, her chills returned and she tossed more logs onto the fire until the room was comfortably stuffy.

Hours later, she was stirred from sleep by an uncomfortable itch in her back, especially around her shoulder blades. She scratched until her skin burned, but eventually gave up and gave in to the call of sleep as her only relief.

When she next awoke, the itch had spread around the rest of her torso. It had also flared from uncomfortable to painful. Her fingertips and teeth ached. She tossed and turned until sleep took her again.

Time was relative at this point. She only knew that it was daytime when she stirred again, allowing her to see the mess that her bed had become: the sheet was shredded and the pillow in tatters, as though they had been torn with a knife. Byleth had nothing so sharp on her to have managed such a feat, but her confusion was soon smothered beneath the fog that seemed ever present in her head lately.

She managed to drain a cup of cool water before her eyelids grew too heavy. When she awoke again, the bed was once again intact and she wondered whether she had dreamt about the damage. Hours later, she had forgotten entirely.

Her moments of sleep and waking continued to blur, until she wasn’t sure which was which. Surely she was dreaming the night she noticed a silver shimmer along the skin of her arms, reflecting brightly in the firelight, and the time she thought she awoke to inhuman noises—growling, snuffling, grunting—only to realize they came from _her_.

She might have awoken to Rhea cradling her once or twice, humming softly and pressing a damp rag to her face.

The rest of her dreams were more nonsensical: fire and stars and darkness, occasionally snatches of what might have been Sothis’ voice, but Byleth knew in her heart of hearts that it was merely memory, not the Goddess’ living presence. Her body’s aches grew so intense that she felt them even when sleeping, making reality even harder to recognize and every moment miserable.

And then she awoke one night in a sudden panic, her veins ablaze with adrenaline. She bolted upright and grasped at her sword, her dagger, but found nothing at her waist except a tangle of damp blankets. She resorted to using her fingers instead, short nails digging into the flesh of her forearms to get at the maddening sensation of something moving and twisting and creaking beneath the skin.

Something was _inside_ her, her mind screamed, something foreign and threatening and growing and it _hurt_. It groaned in her wrists and knuckles and shoulders. It growled in her chest and made her mouth taste like ash.

Before Byleth could tear into herself, a firm grip around her wrist stopped her. With an impulsiveness she didn’t normally possess, she recoiled and tried to wrench free—but the grip was strong, utterly unyielding, and she found herself looking into a face that she knew, but the thing inside her didn’t. She yanked again, mindless and animalistic in her distress and desire to escape, but Rhea didn’t back down.

“Byleth.”

The word meant nothing to her. She twisted with an angry shout, her shoulder straining—and suddenly she was on her back, Rhea’s palm pressed against her collarbone.

“It’s alright,” Rhea murmured warmly, smiling even as Byleth writhed and thrashed like a feral cat. “This will pass. You are safe.”

With a snarl Byleth swiped with her free hand at the woman’s face, her fingernails seeking flesh. Rhea dodged with serpentine speed, and then in the same breath drew herself up and caught Byleth’s jaw in her strong fingers. Their gazes locked, Rhea leaned over her so that her calm face filled Byleth’s vision.

“You are safe,” she repeated, but it sounded like a command this time. The wild instinct raging in Byleth’s blood hesitated, even as every muscle in her body remained taut. It listened.

Rhea didn’t let her guard down. She continued watching Byleth fondly despite her iron grip on her wrist and face. “There is nothing and no one to fear. I have been watching over you, and I will continue to protect you. You are _safe_.”

Those last words were too gentle to be a growl, too firm to be a purr, but there was a hint of each there all the same. The comfort in her tone appealed to Byleth, but the authority was what finally appeased the anxious, brooding force flooding her veins.

Slowly, she felt herself relax. Rhea’s grip followed suit, slackening until she was cupping Byleth’s sweating face in her soft fingers.

“Very good.” Her voice was back to its usual deep and earthy timbre. She sat on the bed slowly, her movements small and careful. “These are merely growing pains. I know you have the strength to overcome them.” Her fingertips wandered more casually, brushing Byleth’s damp hair aside, cradling her limp hand. “If you feel afraid, I will be here to reassure you. And if you feel… something inside you, fighting to get out… I will be here to soothe it.” Her thumb swept gently over Byleth’s cheek. “I swear it. No harm will come to you. Nothing will go wrong. Not now.”

Byleth’s eyes fluttered closed. Something about Rhea’s remarks bothered her—the choice of words, the way her happy tone sounded thin, close to breaking—but she was tired, _so tired_ , and every inch of her still ached. Stringing more than a couple thoughts together was suddenly the most difficult thing she had ever done, so she soon gave up.

Just before she lost consciousness, she thought she heard Rhea murmur something more—something quiet and nonsensical that Byleth thought she must have misheard, but the memory of it soon faded, along with everything else.

* * *

“Are you certain you’re alright?”

Dimitri’s face was wrought with worry, even when Byleth gave him an easy smile. “I’m fine, really. Apparently I had a bad fever and slept through most of it. I guess that explains why I hardly remember anything.”

He nodded, still looking uncertain. “I was worried it was something much worse. You fainted so suddenly...” He glanced away, his expression difficult to read.

“I’m fine, Dimitri,” she said gently. “I wanted to thank you, actually. If you hadn’t come to check on me, I probably would have passed out anyway and been waiting all day for someone to find me.”

He nodded again, a ghost of a smile passing over his mouth. “I tried to visit you in the medical wing afterwards, but I was told you were moved somewhere else at Lady Rhea’s request. I… couldn’t help assuming the worst.”

Had it been anyone else, Byleth would have politely brushed off the concern. Since it was Dimitri, she decided to confide in him and admitted, “Rhea thought it was related to the Goddess’ power. But she didn’t know much about it, so… I’m just hoping that really was the end of it.”

It was hard to tell if Dimitri found that reassuring. “I see.” He seemed to choose his words. “Do you still intend to visit the tomb next week?”

“I do. Do you still plan on coming with me?”

“Of course.” Dimitri’s response was so natural and immediate that Byleth chuckled, even as she took more comfort from his promise than he probably realized. She still had a bad feeling about the tomb, despite having never set foot in it before. As the day moved closer, the feeling intensified, but she brushed it off as another odd side effect.

“I appreciate it.”

This time, his smile looked more heartfelt, more genuine. “Ah,” he said suddenly, “how’s your appetite now? Do you think you can manage to eat something?”

Her stomach gave a painful twist at the reminder. Had she really gone several days without eating?

“I’m _famished_ , Dimitri. Would you join me?”

It was hard to say whether he looked more relieved at her statement or pleased by her invitation. “Of course, Professor. I’d love to.”


End file.
